Appreciating Smallness
by Kuroi Hakuchou
Summary: Higurashi Kagome, stuck in Underland, has the precarious position of being the Red Queen's Fool. How is she to keep her head when a certain Knave of Hearts decides he wants to make her his own? Inu/AiW xover. Kagome/Stayne. Rated M to be safe.


Finally got this written… I've had the idea for this story for several months now, but never got into the right 'mood' to actually write it down. Behold! My first Inu/AiW xover!

And if you're wondering 'why Stayne?', it's because he was the one that I was immediately interested in the first time I watched the movie. I like Johnny, but Stayne definitely had all of my interest throughout the story. Plus, his character seems to have more depth than the Hatter's and most of his past is just speculation. Erm, and there's also the fact that I thought that Stayne was a hottie… Damn me and my strange preferences! It has to be partly because he's a villain!

Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha or Alice in Wonderland. They are the property of Takahashi Rumiko and Lewis Carroll/Tim Burton. :P Nya-nya-nya-nya-nyaaa!

"talking"

'_thinking_'

**~Appreciating Smallness~**

-o-o-o-

Amai wana ni hamate shimatta watashi  
>Kanari yabai joutai ni natteru<br>Amai wana yawarakai dake ja nai  
>Asai wakai nante iwasenai<p>

I'm caught in a sweet trap  
>I'm in a bit of a sticky situation<br>This sweet trap isn't only gentle  
>Don't tell me how shallow, how young I am<p>

~ 'Amai Wana —Paint It Black—'  
>Utada Hikaru<p>

-o-o-o-

An arc of warm-colored orbs rose and fell in the air in a constant, well-timed rhythm, accompanied by the 'pat pat pat' of smooth objects hitting skin. Tirelessly, a pair of dainty, tanned hands moved in continuous activity as they caught-tossed, caught-tossed, and caught-tossed the gleaming orbs; the callused palms felt no sting from the never-ending sensation of impact.

Juggling was not a skill that Higurashi Kagome came by easily. Rather, it was acquired out of necessity and constantly needed tuning up, lest she lose the skill altogether. And not only did she need to practice, but she also had to think up new ways to improve her skills on a daily basis. Her employer, Queen Iracebeth of Crims and Lady of Salazen Grum, was easy to bore, causing her subjects to scramble for new material; thankfully, she was easily amused, more akin to a little child than a grown woman.

'_Don't think,_' Kagome told herself as she juggled. '_Just let your mind rest and have your hands do the work._'

She found that she made mistakes when she focused on catching and tossing whatever she was juggling at the time, so she had to remind herself to not think about the task at hand and to clear her mind instead. Mistakes could not be afforded in the Red Queen's court, especially when one's job was to amuse Iracebeth with a wide range of acts and tricks. Which was what Kagome did.

She was the Queen's Fool (1).

The position was absolutely exhausting. Not only did Kagome have to practice juggling every day, but she also had to learn slight-of-hand and other 'magical' tricks—she had a whole workshop to herself for this purpose. Then she had to work on her agility and flexibility for gymnastic and exercise purposes; the Red Queen absolutely squealed in delight when Kagome provoked a swordfight between herself and one of the castle guards. Jokes had to be thought up almost constantly; they were often corny, but Iracebeth certainly appreciated them. Last but not least, Kagome had to work on her so-called 'inventions', like her flash grenades, smoke bombs, and firecrackers.

At least the outfit she had to wear wasn't too bad. She looked like a pageboy in her little, white ruff, black tunic (emblazoned front and back with a red, heart-shaped insignia) and red tights; the tunic was so long that it came down halfway above her knees, so she wrapped a long strip of linen around her waist to prevent it from getting in the way. To further the preadolescent, boyish illusion, she bound her breasts tightly with linen bandages—the source of her 'belt'. She found that her bosom was slightly cumbersome in duels and acrobatics, so she wrapped them up to keep them out of the way and to keep the men of the court from trying to cop a feel through her tunic; they stared at her tight-covered legs enough as it was.

'_Throw, catch, throw, catch, throw, catch…_'

With half-closed eyes, Kagome chanted this mantra automatically in her head as her hands moved, while the other part of her brain devised new ways to improve her juggling.

Bottles would be tricky, both in procuring and juggling. There was a high chance of broken glass, which the queen would _not_ appreciate; only _she_ was allowed to break things. If the bottles were hard to get, Kagome would break them all trying to learn how to juggle them; then there would be no more. And what part of the bottle did you grip, the neck or the bottle itself?

Bricks? Could she juggle bricks? No, they were too heavy to juggle for very long and Kagome was fairly sure that she'd end up giving herself a concussion if she undertook _that_ endeavor. Besides, where was she going to find a bunch of loose bricks in Salazen Grum?

Ah, knives. Iracebeth would love it if Kagome could pull it off, especially if a stray knife wound one of her courtiers. The queen loved it when Kagome, as her duty as a Fool, criticized the nobles in the court (2), as long as it wasn't Iracebeth herself; that was like asking for a beheading, which was the queen's solution to anything troublesome. If she were to actually maim one of the courtiers…oh, the mistress of Salazen Grum would eat it up! Perhaps juggling knives wasn't a good idea; she faced the same problem of gripping as the bottles and she might well kill herself in the process of juggling knives, anyhow.

The brick idea certainly looked more promising, since she had to worry only about braining herself and the others in her immediate vicinity. Better stay away from the queen, then.

"Practicing again, I see."

Oh dear. She had her back to the door.

Caught completely by surprise at the sound of the familiar, silky voice, Kagome gasped softly in alarm and dropped what she was doing. She whirled around in one swift motion, the apples she had been juggling falling all around her; she managed to catch two with a fumbling action, a red one and a yellow.

Before she could utter a word, a hand gloved in black leather caught one of the other apples—yellow dappled with red-orange, clustered specks—before it hit the ground, just mere centimeters from her nose. She stared at the hand and the apple for a moment, her eyes crossing in the process, and then lifted them to meet the dark, sardonic eye of Ilosovic Stayne, the Knave of Hearts and Iracebeth's right-hand man.

-o-o-o-

Having gone on many hunting excursions with the Red Queen's court in the past, Ilosovic Stayne was very familiar with how an animal looked when the hunting troupe had caught it off-guard. Wide, startled eyes that gave over to watchfulness. Taut muscles that betrayed the animal's desire to flee. Flared nostrils, indicating that the animal was trying to analyze your scent. An air of alertness, meaning that your every move was being watched.

The Queen's Fool displayed every one of these attributes, reminding Stayne of a startled doe. The large eyes, the tensed muscles, the flared nose, even the wariness. Every detail was perfect.

Casually, Stayne inspected the apple he had caught, turning it this way and that to see if the skin was unblemished. Once he saw that it was unmarred, he took a bite out of the apple and chewed it thoughtfully. The fruit was pleasurably sweet and juicy on his palate.

Kagome took a step back from her unexpected visitor and eyed him warily. While Iracebeth was one to use caution around, it was doubly so for her Knave. The queen was temperamental and hopelessly fickle, which was something Kagome could handle with ease. Stayne was another matter. Completely opposite in manner and bearing from his queen, he usually bore an air of unmistakable malice. He constantly fooled others with his charming smiles and chivalry towards his mistress, but Kagome knew better: You didn't mess with Ilosovic Stayne.

And although he answered only to Iracebeth, the Knave clearly had his own agenda. More often than not, he did what he pleased, with an exception to direct orders from the queen. If he witnessed something that Iracebeth would be _very_ interested to hear (such as disloyalty among her subjects), there was a sixty-percent chance he'd keep it to himself in order to take advantage of it at a later date. It wouldn't be a lie to say that the man knew court politics better than the courtiers did.

"Off to see Her Majesty, sir?" Kagome inquired carefully, masking her displeasure at his disruption of her juggling practice.

Stayne narrowed his eye at the young woman minutely when she referred to him as 'sir'. Her continuous politeness towards him irked him for some reason. Only his soldiers called him 'sir', because he was their captain and second-highest in the chain of command. But the Fool was not one of his subordinates and it irritated him that she did not call him by his name like the rest of those disgusting louts. Ironic that the woman he wanted to give him the respect he deserved called him Stayne, and that he wanted the woman that gave him the respect he deserved to refer to him as familiarly as the former.

He swallowed his bite of apple, noticing that the little woman made no move to pick up those that had fallen. She knew better than to expose the back of her neck to him, or her back, for that matter. Not that he'd do anything, oh no. Even if he had wanted to decapitate her, he couldn't—Iracebeth enjoyed her Fool far too much at present.

"And what makes you say that?" he asked pleasantly, taking another bite out of his prize.

"Your eye-patch," replied Kagome, her expression cautious and watchful. "You exchange the dark one for the bright-red one whenever you have an audience with her (3)."

The corners of Stayne's mouth turned up slightly in what Kagome suspected was an amused smirk. Her wariness increased. Was the Knave up to mischief? Or, more accurately, was the Knave up to mischief that would affect _her_?

Turning from Kagome and tossing his apple into the air, Stayne caught the half-eaten fruit and said, "Actually, I've already been to see Her Majesty. I was on my way back from the throne room when I decided your little workshop needed another, ah, inspection."

Kagome refrained from scowling; _definitely_ up to mischief. This was the sixth inspection this month alone and it was hardly the third week. Stayne wouldn't be snooping about unless he was up to something. And whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Stayne surveyed the semi-neat shelves and workbenches crammed into the room with a curious eye, wondering at all the little inventions Iracebeth's Fool had come up with. Most were half-finished, their functions frustratingly unknown to him; he usually attended the queen's stifling court sessions just to find out what they did.

He wrinkled his nose imperceptibly at the little jars full of chemicals—black powder, sulfur, sodium, phosphorous, and more—and knew that they were used in the miniature fireworks that the Fool made with almost no effort. In Underland, fireworks were considered an art-craft and were difficult to make, yet this petite woman mocked the master pyro-technicians by creating new types almost daily.

Hearing the rustle of cloth behind him, Stayne glanced out of the corner of his good eye towards the noise and saw that the Fool had picked up the fallen apples. She was placing the retrieved fruit on a shelf, her eyes fixed on him in the manner of a hawk's; she didn't dare take her eyes off him for a second.

Stayne took a large bite out of his apple and threw the remainder in a nearby waste-bin, seeing the Fool frown disapprovingly at him for his wastefulness. The red markings she had painted on her face wrinkled in the action and smoothed out without cracking; such was the nature of the paint.

The markings glared blue at him in a negative over the original, floating before his vision and attached to nothing as his eye moved: a vertical stripe down the middle of her lower lip (4), an upside-down heart on the cheek below her right eye, and a right-side up heart above her left eyebrow.

He quickly turned back to what he was doing, not wanting the young woman to catch him staring at her. Just as he didn't want her to know that his inspections were nothing but an excuse to cover for an opportunity to study her.

He had learned much…and yet so little.

The woman was different, that much was obvious. In Iracebeth's court, where people with overly-large characteristics were met with open arms (Stayne was no exception), she stood out like blood on freshly-fallen snow. She was small, pixie-like, and was trained in the ways of the sword—these ways, too, were different from those that he was accustomed to. She was also maddeningly resourceful; Stayne had expected her to last a week at the most before the queen grew tired of her and had her beheaded, but it was now seven months past her arrival and Iracebeth still enjoyed her acts.

Within a fortnight of her arrival (incarceration, more like) Stayne had taken to making routine inspections of the little workshop Iracebeth had provided the tiny woman. She was strange, both in looks and in manner; seeing such strangeness disconcerted him, even distracted him—it drove him to look for evidence to bring against her. He found none, not even after searching her surprisingly sparse sleeping quarters.

Still her presence continued to plague his consciousness—and unconsciousness—long after she had settled into the routine of court life and he himself had grown used to her presence.

How strange this little foreign woman was! She was not like the ladies of the court (ladies indeed!) with their prim and fancy ways, their layers of makeup and barge-like dresses. Here was a woman that preferred to dress as a boy, and to further the appearance, strapped down her own bosom so that it was as flat as a lad's—Stayne was quite certain of this suspicion. She even _walked_ like a youth, at least while in the presence of others, but he knew that when she thought she was alone, she reassumed that hypnotizing sway of the hips that belonged to women alone.

Yes, here was a little shrike of a woman, impaling the courtiers on the barb of her sharp tongue. Here was a desert flower, beautiful and delicate-looking, yet hardy in the harsh environment of the court. And here also was a docile hart, wild and easy to startle if approached unexpectedly.

Stayne longed to tame this vicious songbird, lest she skewer him on her thorn of steel. He wished to pluck this desert flower and ever keep it as his own. He wanted to hunt this little doe, to pierce her with his arrow (5)…

When… When had he become so poetic…?

With eyes of dark sapphire, Kagome watched Stayne closely as he wandered amidst her workbenches with a pensive look on his normally stony face. His dark eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly, making the scar that extended from beneath his heart-shaped eye-patch wrinkle and contract—it looked like a fault line, a mar in the earth itself. Kagome found herself wondering, not for the first time, how a man so tall could have lost his eye.

And Stayne was _tall_. Unlike those pretender courtiers, who wore fake gargantuan body parts to earn favor with Iracebeth, Stayne was really and truly a product of genetic mutation. He had a tall, spindly body with limbs that looked like they had been stretched out on a rack, especially his legs; they sent him towering over Kagome at seven feet or more, making him a giant to her own five-foot-one. With his elongated limbs and slender body, he reminded Kagome of a daddy long-leg spider.

No wonder Stayne was Iracebeth's second-in-command; with his too-long limbs and the queen's bulbous head, the two were the only disproportioned members of the court. Not that the queen knew, of course.

"Looks like everything is in order," drawled Stayne, casting a disdainful look around the workshop. "What a pity."

Yes, a pity that he couldn't stay longer. But there was very little information to be had on this day; to his disappointment, it was starting to run dry.

Turning, Stayne made to cross the room towards the door, only for his eye to light on a particular object of interest leaning against the wall. _The Fool's sword._

Sheathed in its scabbard, the weapon looked fairly harmless. But that wasn't Stayne's concern: Why was it here, instead of in the Fool's quarters?

His dark eye darted over to the tiny woman, who was looking at him with a mixture of caution and confusion; she probably wondered why he was hesitating. Stayne focused on the wavy strands of hair haloing her face, hair that had fallen out of the tight, ebony bun at the nape of her neck. The hair looked like it had been damp fairly recently. Stayne deduced that the Fool had been down training in the armory and had then proceeded to her workshop, hence why her sword was not in her chambers.

Seeing the sword sent the gears of his mind into overdrive; within a split second, a devilishly-tasteful idea had formed. Stayne suppressed a smug smirk—time for this buck to start hunting his doe.

"Well, what have we here?" he said suavely, starting forward towards the lone sword.

Kagome's blue eyes widened and she cried out when she saw what Stayne was heading for, reaching out towards him in a fruitless attempt to stop him. But it was too late; the Knave had her katana—which she had placed ever-so-carefully where she wouldn't trip over it—in his dark, gloved hands.

Fear closed Kagome's throat and she found herself dumb as Stayne drew her only true possession from its worn sheath.

'_No!_' she thought, afraid that the Knave was going to take it from her. '_Not Sazanami (6)!_'

Staring down at the Fool's sword, Stayne marveled at the pure-white steel of the blade and its mirror-like surface, where he could see his reflection perfectly.

"So light…" he murmured, sweeping the weapon through the air slowly to test its resistance.

There was only one sword that he could liken this strange blade to and that was the Vorpal. The purity of the two metals was nearly identical, and like the Vorpal sword, this one was slender and elegant. But unlike the Vorpal, which tapered down to a sharp point, this weapon narrowed only slightly along its length, the bottom edge stopping short and then curving upwards to meet the top edge. This sword was definitely very capable of doing harm.

Beautiful, elegant, pure, deadly… A sword such as this fit his desert flower perfectly. And, judging from her reaction to him picking it up, it meant a great deal to her, perhaps making it her most-prized possession.

'_We shall see,_' he thought cunningly.

Stayne lifted the weapon to his eye level, looked down the blade, and asked, "What do you call this make of sword?"

Kagome's mouth worked for a moment, her voice refusing to work.

"Katana. It's called a katana," she managed to croak, still afraid for her sword's welfare.

'_Kah-tah-nah,_' thought Stayne, storing away the tidbit of information. '_Kahtahnah._'

"And its name?" he asked, lowering the 'kahtahnah', removing a glove, and inspecting its fine edge delicately with his bare hand.

"W-what?" said Kagome, taken aback.

"Your sword has no name?" asked Stayne disbelievingly.

It was customary in Underland to give one's weapon a name, a tradition extending far back into history. Stayne's own blade, a longsword, was called 'Fritmund' (7); it was a name given to the sword in his youth, when his ideals were different, _naïve_. The name no longer applied, but he couldn't bring himself to change it or use a different weapon; Fritmund had served him well and Stayne wasn't one to discard a good weapon.

Kagome shook herself out of her surprised stupor, though she was still bewildered by the Knave's question. Why was the name of her katana important? Why was Stayne even interested?

Her wariness returned full-force. Stayne's interest in her sword was odd to be sure, but it was his almost _friendly_ manner towards her at this moment that had her highly suspicious.

"No," she said, eying the Knave cautiously, "it has a name. It's Sazanami."

'_Sah-zah-nah-mee._'

Stayne wondered at the etymology of the sword's name, but did not ask. A weapon's name oftentimes revealed much about the person who wielded it, so it was courteous to not ask what the name meant. Usually, one could figure the name out for themselves, but not in this case; the Fool spoke a totally alien native language.

"A curious sword for a curious person," remarked Stayne, lifting Sazanami in his hand and pointing it at Kagome's breast.

With surprising calmness for the situation, Kagome stared at the razor-sharp tip hovering several feet away from her heart, knowing that the Knave could easily pierce it with a lunge. She lifted her eyes up to meet Stayne's single one, noting the unusual fire lurking beneath the surface of its icy depths.

What was going on inside this man's mind…?

"What are you up to, Knave?" she demanded in a cold, authoritative voice befitting one of noble blood. "You cannot kill me; Her Majesty still holds me in her favor."

Stayne suppressed a delighted shudder at the regal tone of the young woman's voice, desire for her rising within him. This tiny female could definitely make a suitable mate for him, unlike Iracebeth, who was fit for only pleasuring him with her mouth—she enjoyed it too, like the royal slut she was.

"Oh, I don't intend to _kill_ you, girl," said Stayne, approaching Iracebeth's Fool slowly and steadily with the blade of her own sword aimed at her heart.

"My name isn't 'girl'!" spat the little woman fearlessly. "It's 'Kagome'!"

"Indeed it is," replied Stayne smoothly, coming ever closer towards her. "But you don't use my name, either, so I shall call you whatever I wish…_girl_."

Kagome reddened with anger and carefully weighed her options. Attempting to flee would surely bring dire consequences and she didn't want to leave Sazanami in the hands of Stayne. The Knave was quick; she'd never make it to the door.

No, it was best to play along so to discover what was Stayne's goal for this little confrontation. He was probably just going to screw with her mind, anyway; the man _was_ Iracebeth's interrogator.

She held her ground as Stayne reached her, glaring defiantly up into that cold, angular yet handsome face framed by black, wind-tousled hair. Her nose picked up the scent of his black, leather clothing and the distinctive musky odor of maleness. The combination wasn't all that bad, she noticed.

Stayne lifted the tip of the blade and used it to raise the little woman's face higher. He was pleased to see that although she complied, her expression was one of rebellion and adamant anger. This was one female that did not like to be pushed around, who resisted oppression and demanded equality among the opposite gender. She was so different from the others…

His eye was drawn to her neck above her ruff to the frantically-pumping vein that indicated that she was afraid. Using the end of the sword, he very carefully traced over the delicate vein, going lower and lower until he met the collar of her tunic. The desire to see her naked seized him; he hooked the tip of the 'kahtahnah' beneath the top edge of her shirt.

The sharp blade cut into the fabric slightly, exposing her collarbone beneath her ruff, but that was as far as Stayne got: the Fool squeaked like a terrified mouse and shied away from him.

Kagome stumbled back from Stayne with shock evident on her pale face, clutching the collar of her shirt tightly with her hand. Her eyes were wide with the whites showing clearly; her heart was thundering like a herd of stampeding horses.

"Wh-what are you _doing_?" she cried, staring at her harasser with a mixture of surprise, fear, and confusion.

"What's the matter, little one? Has a man not looked upon you unclothed before?" asked Stayne teasingly, smirking with pleasure.

Kagome flushed a violent red.

"T-that's none of your business!" she spluttered angrily, taking a step back to distance herself from the Knave.

'_So, my assumption was correct,_' thought Stayne. '_She really is a virgin._'

He felt a stirring in his loins and his pulse quickened with excitement. With the tip of the sword still aimed at the young woman's breast, he began to advance upon her once more, stalking her like a wolf would its prey. He hoped that she did not see that his hand was trembling; it had been so long since he had been with a woman—the release he received orally from that royal slut didn't count.

Kagome retreated before the Knave, backing further from her own blade until, alarmingly, she felt her back press up against the wall. Her breath caught in her throat; she was trapped with nowhere to run.

The only avenue left to get out of this situation was to talk her way out.

"Sir," she said in a pleading tone, "why are you doing this? You like 'largeness'; I've heard you say it myself! I-I'm the furthest thing from 'largeness'!"

Stayne pressed the tip of the sword snugly against the skin of her neck, hard enough to leave an indentation but not enough to break the skin. The little woman lifted her head up to try and escape the pressure of the sword on her flesh, looking down at it with the very bottoms of her eyes.

"It's true that I like largeness," said Stayne casually, "but I have grown to…_appreciate_ smallness."

"But aren't you and Her Majesty…?" began Kagome imploringly, falling silent when Stayne's face darkened thunderously.

"Do not speak to me of that royal whore!" the Knave hissed venomously in a high whisper, pressing the sword harder against the skin of her neck in warning. "She is merely a means to an end; she is not worthy of my seed!"

Kagome, not daring to look upon his murderous face, knew that he was telling the truth.

A sharp pain erupted from beneath the digging tip of Sazanami and she had to force herself not to flinch, lest she be cut deeper—her breathing did enough of that as it was. She felt a trickle of wetness sliding down her neck and knew that she would have to get a new ruff; her current one was probably going to end up stained with blood.

Kagome was tempted to shake her head with wonder at her current predicament. All because Stayne apparently wasn't as loyal to Iracebeth as he appeared to be.

'_This whole time his devotion towards the queen has been a sham…?_' she wondered, trying to breathe as little as possible. '_Why is he using Iracebeth? To gain power? (8)_'

She couldn't help but admire the Knave's acting abilities. He had everyone thinking that he could love no other than the queen, that he would give his life for her. It took quite a bit of skill to fool _everyone_.

Stayne saw that he had frightened his little doe with his behavior and took a quick, deep breath to calm himself. It worked; the majority of his anger dissipated, though he still felt irked that the Fool—Kah-goh-may—assumed that he and the queen committed the carnal act of sexual intercourse.

The very thought made him want to shiver with disgust.

Slowly, Stayne lowered the 'kahtahnah' to his side and let it hang loosely in his hand. There was no need for it now, not when he had his Kah-goh-may—Kagome, he corrected himself—where he wanted her. He certainly didn't want to risk injuring her again.

"You, however," he stated, "are more than worthy."

Kagome stared at the Knave disbelievingly for a moment, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Maybe she had lost more blood than she thought; the wound he had given her, although shallow, was bleeding quite profusely. She reached up and covered it with a hand, feeling the sting of her skin against the raw flesh of the cut.

"W-what…?" she stuttered, her eyes resuming their wide, saucer-like state.

Rather abruptly, Stayne dropped her sword, making her jump a little. It landed with a loud, metallic 'clang!' at his boots, making her worry whether the sword was unscathed or not. But she didn't dare take her eyes off Stayne for a moment, in case he pulled a fast one.

Before Kagome could wonder at why the Knave had dropped Sazanami, a hand slammed against the wall right next to her ear, followed shortly after by its ungloved twin beside her other ear. She started violently in response, her heart leaping into her throat. A wild surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins when Stayne leaned down towards her until his face was mere fractions of an inch from her.

She swallowed; now she was quite literally trapped by the Knave, his arms and body forming a cage that she doubted she would dare try to escape from.

"I want to see you naked beneath me, Kagome," breathed Stayne, unable to suppress the desire and excitement in his voice. "I want to touch every inch of you, memorize every curve of your skin with my bare hands."

Kagome's face felt like it was literally on fire as she listened to the Knave's proclamation. She was extremely conscious of the ravenous light in his dark eye and found that she was both uncomfortable and aroused with how intensely it seemed to bore into her—it was as if she were a jug of water easily in reach of a man dying of thirst.

Was it a compliment, to have a man looking at her like that? She wasn't so sure.

Stayne plowed onwards with his speech, desperate to have it all out in the open.

"I want to see you squirm on my sheets with desire while I pleasure you with my fingers, or my mouth. I want to bring you to the highest peak of ecstasy and hear you cry my name while I thrust my—"

"_Stop it!_"

Kagome tightly squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the lustful gaze of the Knave hovering over her. She breathed deeply and erratically, her chest heaving heavily within her tunic. Her face continued to burn with embarrassment at Stayne's words, feeling ashamed of the smoldering desire in her lower abdomen.

Stayne, having fallen silent at her exclamation, studied Kagome a moment and took in the sight of her flustered, embarrassed face.

"I have upset you," he murmured somewhat apologetically.

He reached over and stroked the side of her face with his ungloved hand in what he meant to be a reassuring way, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.

"Please stop," whispered Kagome, her eyes still screwed shut. "What if someone saw us? She'd behead me if she found out."

As if on cue, a high, ringing voice called out from somewhere beyond the door of her workshop. The voice, very familiar to the both of them, turned her blood ice-cold.

"Stayne!"

Kagome's eyes shot open with surprise and fear at the sound of Iracebeth's voice. Judging from the way it echoed in the outside corridor, the queen was a little ways away and extremely irritated. Irritated in a way that usually meant that heads were going to roll; Kagome just hoped it wouldn't be hers.

Meeting Stayne's gaze, Kagome found that he, too, seemed irritated. No wonder. The Red Queen had just disrupted his playtime. She couldn't help but feel a little grateful to Iracebeth for calling out for him when she had.

"Damn," muttered Stayne, sighing in exasperation.

Of all the rotten times, it had to be now—when he was trying to seduce the object of his desire—that 'Her Majesty' desired his presence. Damn and botheration! Why wait for that girl Alice to return to Underland; he'd throttle the queen himself!

"Stayne!" called Iracebeth again, sounding annoyingly shrill.

"You'd better go," said Kagome quietly, feeling strangely disappointed that the Knave was about to leave. "Someone might come looking."

Stayne stared at her with a pondering look for a moment, perhaps considering whether to corner her later or not. The very thought sent a shiver down her spine—for the sake of her head, she hoped not.

"Stayne! Where are you!"

The Knave sent a quick glance over his shoulder towards the door and turned back to her, a harried look about him and a hunted look in his eye. Hurriedly, he grabbed the hand that wasn't covering her wound, making her flinch minutely at the sudden skin contact between them. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb in little circles, warming the area there from the friction.

"If you should ever desire the touch of a man, Kagome, come to my quarters at night and I will gladly satisfy your wildest fantasies," he said in a low, husky voice that sent an excited thrill running through her body.

Then, without any warning, he darted forward and captured her lips with his in a searing kiss.

"Umph!" said Kagome in surprise, nearly tripping over herself in her shock—this was quite an accomplishment, considering that she was standing still.

Stayne tasted of the apple he had eaten—sweet and tangy on the taste buds. Whatever remained of the fruit's juice on the Knave's lips somehow found its way onto her tongue and lingered there long after the kiss had been broken.

Surfacing for air, Stayne broke away from the soft, petal-like lips of his Kagome with some reluctance. He was pleased to see that she looked dazed, her lips swollen and red from their brief but intense kiss.

"I offer myself to you, my sweet," he said a hurried, intense voice. "I will wait for you."

Then he turned and strode to the door, his black cloak billowing slightly in his wake. With a great deal of hidden rebellion and anger, he flung open the door and was headed down the adjoining hall towards the queen's screeching voice. Time to return to the life of falsehood and lies.

Kagome stared at the door for several minutes, her mind trying to process what had just transpired. When it failed to come up with a logical solution (was there _anything_ logical about this place?), she just shook her head and tried to accept what had happened.

Okay, Stayne had interrupted her practice. Check. He had inspected her workshop. Check. Then the rest got a little strange. The Knave had taken up her sword, corned her against the wall with it, tried to cut her shirt from her, gotten angry with her when she tried to persuade him otherwise, announced that he wanted to sleep with her, and then kissed her when Iracebeth came calling. Then he had promptly vamoosed, leaving her to sort out the details.

"Uhhhh…" she said, not even bothering to make sense of it all.

Kagome pushed herself away from the wall and took a couple of hesitant steps towards the open doorway. Her foot nudged something on the way, making her look down curiously. Near her toes lay Sazanami, its blade reflecting her face just like a mirror.

Shaking her head and sighing, she spoke to her reflection with a sort of resignation.

"What have I gotten myself into now…?"

_**Owari**_

-o-o-o-

**Author's Notes**

(1) Not to be confused with the book by Philippa Gregory! :3

(2) Traditionally, the job of the court jester (or fool) was not only to provide entertainment, but to also criticize the royalty whom they were employed to.

(3) Anyone else notice this? I was watching the movie for the third time when I finally saw that Stayne switched his eye-patches. ^.^;

(4) Just like on the prequel _Star Wars_ trilogy when Padmé was queen. I've always liked that stripe on her lip for some reason.

(5) I still can't believe I wrote that...! XD

(6) Literally means 'rippling wave(s)'. There isn't a particular reason why her sword has this name; I just liked the sound of it.

(7) Literally means 'peace protector' in Old Norse. I thought that Stayne's first name looked slightly Scandinavian (possibly German-influenced), so I gave his sword a Scandinavian name.

(8) When I watched _Alice in Wonderland_, I noticed that Stayne didn't really seem to be in it for gaining control over Underland. He actually seemed to do certain things half-heartedly, especially ones concerning following Iracebeth's orders or protecting her. He took too long to run up to her at Tarrant's execution and he was pitifully inept for a captain when he fought the Hatter.

-o-o-o-

Did you like it? Please remember to read and review, and keep all limbs within the passenger seats at all times. I'm planning a sequel, but I don't know when I'll start writing it—so don't get all antsy with anticipation!

Syc Fuk, you're probably going to be the first to review and mention that I haven't updated SUTAADASUTOO in forever (I didn't plan that, by the way!). Remember that little thing I mentioned about 'mood' at the top? Yeah, I gotta have that to write my stories in the right way; it varies from each story. I'm trying to get it back, honest! _ You'd better not stop giving Urahara sweets… {:[ I'll see what I can do.

Until next time, ja ne! ^.^


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